


Young Man's Fancy

by Caledonia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Competition, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caledonia/pseuds/Caledonia
Summary: Merlin's mum has moved to a quaint village with a strangely competitive spring tradition. Cue Merlin being clumsy and Arthur manning the first aid tent."In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." - Alfred Lord Tennyson
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 243
Collections: The Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019





	Young Man's Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a load of spring foolishness, and I refuse to apologise! xx Cally

"And is it my fault you moved to a tiny English village with such bizarre Springtime rituals?"

"It isn't _bizarre_ , son, and there was no reason for me to stay in the city after you finished University."

"I come to see my loving mother and instead of a nice, relaxing long weekend I find out I've been signed up for a gruelling, physical-"

"If you die during the egg and spoon race, Merlin my love, you've only yourself to blame."

Hunith patted Merlin's arm gently but turned away to talk to one of her new friends. The quaint little village was perfect for his mother - it would give her the community she had been craving since Merlin's father left. Merlin would love it, too, on holidays and long weekends, but he couldn't live there _permanently_. He was having enough trouble meeting decent single men in London, in a village this small he would have no hope whatsoever.

He couldn't deny that is was beautiful, though. Especially decorated as it was for the spring festival, everything new and fresh. If Merlin didn't already believe in the magic of new beginnings, he thought this village and their spring festival might have convinced him anyway.

Merlin wandered, enjoying the sights and sounds, before queuing up for the race as he'd been instructed. The crowd of racers grew steadily, the atmosphere jocund and jovial, and Merlin found himself listening to a conversation between two men, one of them tall and olive-skinned with short black hair, and the other, slightly shorter, with clever eyes and shoulder-length curls.

"D'you think I'll manage to impress Lady Guinevere this year, Sir Lancelot the unready?"

"She is still my wife, you scoundrel," Sir Lancelot said, cuffing the other man around the head. Merlin couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, and who are you trying to impress, stranger?" He said, turning to look at Merlin, who blushed at having been caught eavesdropping.

"My mother," Merlin mumbled, and they exploded into laughter.

"Your mother!" the curly-haired one said, his eyes dancing, "whatever the results of the race you're coming with us for a pint after. _My mother_! Honestly!"

"It's true! She's only just moved to the village. And she signed me up for this race even though I can't walk the length of myself without tripping over nothing."

"A worthy adversary!" Lance crowed, puffing out his chest, "I'm Lance, and this is Gwaine. We've both lived in the village our whole lives and we take this competition incredibly seriously."

"Although, as long as Cenred doesn't win we don't mind whoever else does," Gwaine said, looking across the crowd at a surly looking man.

"Cenred?"

"He's our arch-nemesis," Lance said with complete seriousness.

"Arch-nemesis?" Merlin asked, disbelieving. As he watched Cenred, Lance and Gwaine levelled angry glares at each other, and Merlin had to hold in his laughter. They knew they were adults, right?

"I know Leon and Percy are on bar duty, but is Arthur competing this year?" Gwaine asked, looking away from Cenred.

"No, he's injured - pulled his hamstring playing football last week. He's manning the first aid tent with Gwen."

"Oh, a _hamstring_ injury, is it? Playing football, was he? He's just afraid to lose again." Gwaine said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"I _was_ playing football, Gwaine, and I _am_ injured, you traitor." 

The newcomer was obviously the Arthur in question as he was limping slightly. He was also handsome enough that Merlin felt his eyes go wide. He was as tall as Merlin, but broad and muscled where Merlin was thin and lithe. His hair was as golden as Merlin's was dark, their eyes equally blue. Merlin knew he was staring, but Arthur was busy greeting his friends and missed it.

"Now, men, I don't care who wins as long as-"

"Cenred loses, we _know_ , Arthur," Lance said, rolling his eyes.

Deciding that he'd had enough talk of winners and losers, and before someone could introduce him to Arthur and he could embarrass himself, Merlin walked away to collect his spoon and his egg. 

The spoon was large and sturdy, the egg numbered in black marker. Merlin milled around the pre-race crowd, feeling excited despite himself. He walked past Cenred who was loudly wishing his arch-enemies bodily harm, and Merlin felt a surge of dislike. Twenty-three wasn't too late to develop an arch-nemesis, was it?

As Merlin wandered he proceeded to get lost in a fantasy where he won the egg and spoon race and earned the admiration and adoration of Arthur. He was thus distracted when the race actually began and nearly dropped his egg before he'd gone a metre. 

The race was absolute pandemonium. Merlin hadn't actually asked what the prize for the winner was, but you'd have thought it was bars of solid gold the way people were behaving. Merlin tried desperately to focus on his own egg and spoon, but much farther ahead he could see Gwaine and Lance dodging through the crowd nimbly as though their eggs were glued to their spoons. There were plenty of people failing as miserably as Merlin, and plenty of eggs had already fallen to their doom. Everyone was laughing and having a grand old time, including Merlin.

Or at least he _was_ enjoying himself until someone bumped him and his egg slipped and he reached out and managed to catch it but tripped over someone else's foot and went down spectacularly, arms flailing like windmills, egg and spoon forgotten completely.

When he managed to scramble to his feet again one of his hands was bleeding. He wiped the blood on his shirt and looked around him. Miraculously his egg had survived the fall and was still snugly on his spoon. 

The field of competitors was much narrowed now, but Gwaine and Lance were still near the front, walking slowly so as not to dislodge their eggs. A few feet ahead of them was Cenred a gloating look of triumph on his surly face. In a fit of complete insanity, hand dripping blood, Merlin seized his egg and spoon and ran for the finish line. He vaulted over fallen contestants, dodged around others, and eventually found himself near the finish and keeping pace with Lancelot and Gwaine.

"Man, you must really want to impress your mother!" Gwaine shouted, almost in awe.

"You need to slow down, stranger, or you'll drop your egg!" Lancelot said.

"Slow down? Is this a race or not?' Merlin laughed heartily. Then he tripped again, this time over nothing whatsoever, and he fell, arms outstretched before him to catch his egg. 

Winded and bleeding, Merlin watched as his egg came to rest neatly in his spoon, and he saw that his hand was firmly over the finish line.

"And we have a winner!" Someone bellowed in a loudspeaker. The village erupted into applause and Merlin hauled himself to his feet, blushing.

"Someone check his egg! If it's cracked he's not the winner. Who came second and third?"

"Cenred and Gwaine!"

"You'd better go to the first aid tent, son," someone said to Merlin and, smiling, he obliged. He'd won! Sure it was just a ridiculous egg and spoon race for a small village's Spring Celebration, but Merlin had won! He'd never won anything! 

His mother appeared from the crowd, beaming, but on seeing his bleeding hand she pointed him towards the first aid tent. She still hated seeing him bleed, but that was mothers for you.

Laughing Merlin ducked under the flap of the first aid tent, his hand held upright. Glancing around he saw that he was not the only casualty. 

"You look like you've been in the wars."

Merlin looked over to see a blue glove-wearing Arthur walking towards him. 

"I fell," Merlin shrugged, and he left himself be led to a chair, "twice."

"He won!!" Gwaine shouted as he charged into the tent, arms flung wide as though he was the winner and not Merlin. "Cenred is _fuming_ , Arthur! You should see him! This guy _fell_ over the finish line!" Gwaine threw his arm around Merlin's shoulders as though they were old friends.

"Not my finest moment," Merlin said, wincing as Arthur cleaned his wound with something that _stung_.

"Your egg survived?" Arthur asked, his voice deep and filled with humour.

"Not a scratch!" Gwaine said, pulling the egg from inside a pocket and handing it to Merlin who took it, feeling silly.

Across the small tent, Merlin could hear Lance telling the story of his spectacular victory to a pretty girl with curls who must have been his wife.

"I've got to go tell Leon and Percy. Cenred lost! They'll be gutted they missed it."

Gwaine started for the exit to the tent, but stopped, "What's your name, stranger?"

"Merlin," Merlin replied, his eyes on Arthur who had finished cleaning his cut and was now searching for an appropriate bandage.

"You're shitting me," Gwaine said, his arms falling to his side. 

"Would you like to see my driver's license?"

"Ha!" Gwaine barked out a laugh and then left the tent. Merlin could feel Arthur's fingers gentle against his hand as they pressed the bandage into place.

"Merlin, huh? I'm Arthur."

"Nice to meet you," Merlin said. Arthur was looking at him intently, and his fingers were still resting on Merlin's wounded hand. Merlin could feel himself beginning to blush. Maybe small towns were just perfect for finding single men, after all.

"Tell me about this victory, then," Arthur said, smiling a crooked smile.

"Oh, well, I had already fallen once," Merlin said, raising his bandaged hand slightly, "but my egg was still intact, so I sort of decided it was all or nothing and I legged it for the finish line. The ending is a bit of a blur because I tripped again, over thin air this time, and I fell over the finish line."

"I would have liked to have seen that," Arthur said, clearing away the detritus of Merlin's wound dressing.

"Well, I fall over a lot, actually, so if we spend any time together I'm sure I'll repeat myself."

"Are you saying you would _like_ to spend some time together?" Arthur asked. His hands were on Merlin again, one on his wrist and the other draped over his fingers. Merlin smiled, feeling slightly light-headed.

"I would," Merlin said, and he deliberately brushed his knee against Arthur's leg so that his ulterior motives were understood. Arthur smiled and lowered Merlin a slow, promising wink.

"Look," Arthur said, and he lifted Merlin's knuckles and kissed them gently, "I'm the winner."

Merlin laughed at the cheesy line though he was flattered. A second later they were surrounded by Arthur's effusive friends who all wanted to congratulate Merlin on his victory over the evil Cenred. Merlin soaked in the praise, but he kept trying to catch Arthur's eye - which was easy enough because it seemed as though Arthur was watching him constantly.

Merlin introduced his mother to his sudden new friends and assured her that, as bizarre as their spring rituals were, he was definitely on board with her choice of tiny village.

In fact, he was planning to spend quite a lot of time there, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> See? Foolishness!! I did say!


End file.
